


is it cool that I said all that?

by PugsOfHouseTargaryen



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Fluff, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PugsOfHouseTargaryen/pseuds/PugsOfHouseTargaryen
Summary: You actually feel normal for once in your life and you know that you should deal with the problems lurking in the back of your mind but you push them aside and focus on the present because that means you can pretend a little longer.You’re pretty sure it’s having Korra nearby that’s making you happy for once.Inspired by the song Delicate by Taylor Swift





	is it cool that I said all that?

**Author's Note:**

> surprise, i'm alive. i know i should be working on The Internship and my other fics but i just felt the urge to write something because i definitely think Delicate is a korrasami song and i just got inspired
> 
> this might remain a one shot but if i feel like it isn't enough then i'd make it a two shot
> 
> i really don't know how to feel about this but at least my writing urge is soothed and i thought to share it with you guys

_"Good evening, folks! This is your regular Shiro Shinobi with the hottest events to ever occur in Republic City! Today—and I’m proud to have the privilege to say this—we managed to score some time with the elusive Asami Sato. Miss Sato, words cannot express how lucky we are to have you on tonight."_

_"It’s an honor to be on your show, Shiro."_

_"I'd say it’s quite the opposite! Let’s get down to business, shall we?"_

_"Of course."_

_"Why don’t you start with telling us about Future Industries, now that it is under your complete supervision?"_

_"Well, I can’t say it’s been easy. We had to work our way up from the…crisis and it’s a long time before I would consider myself satisfied with the state of the company. You could say that we had to start from scratch."_

_"I can imagine that must be difficult, especially after your father leaving the company in your hands."_

_"…Yes, well, my employees and I work very hard. I’m sure we can manage."_

_"I’m sure you can! Now, as we all know, the world has been very eager to hear from you but you remained adamant to keep away from the press. Why show up now?"_

_"Well, to be honest Shiro, it wasn’t my decision to come. If I had been given a choice, I would’ve been perfectly happy not entertaining any questions. However, my advisors have shown me that it was about time I step out of the shadows."_

_"I don’t blame you for that. It must be difficult dealing with the problems your father caused so soon after his death."_

_"I’d rather not speak of it."_

_"I can respect that but, Miss Sato, this is the reason why so many reporters have been trying to get a hold of you! The world deserves to know your father’s story after nearly causing World War III—"_

_"I would choose your next words very wisely if I were you, Mr. Shinobi."_

_"Ah, I apologize. I may have gotten carried away."_

_"…May have."_

_"Ahem, after your father’s…decisions, people have been dying to know what you plan to do with Future Industries, now that your father is…gone."_

_"I believe I have already answered this question."_

_"No, but…forgive me Ms. Sato, but bluntness seems to be the only way to ask this."_

_"…"_

_"The world wants to know if they can be assured that you wouldn’t follow your father’s footsteps."_

_"…This interview is over."_

_"But Ms. Sato—"_

_"I said, **it’s over."**_

 

The silence that followed the crash of a flat-screen TV falling to the floor should’ve been deafening.

But the pounding in your ears is too loud, strong enough to overpower the silence and the sudden sound of banging on your door you are only half-aware of. You’re pretty sure someone is calling your name frantically, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment.

You really can’t blame Shiro. He was only doing his job and the questions he asked were only logical.

No, it wasn’t his words that caused you to feel this way. It was the fact that, even after all this time, everything inside you still _hurt._

You feel your strength suddenly leave you and you fall to your hands and knees on the carpeted floor with a thud. You wince when you feel something sharp dig into your palms and you vaguely remember the screen of the TV shattering as it hit the floor.

But all you do is raise your hands closer to your eyes and clench your fists tighter around the glass. Some sick part of you watches in fascination as warm streams of blood roll down your forearms and relishes in the sting as the glass dug in deeper.

 _This,_ you decide, is better than the pain you feel crushing your heart.

 

* * *

 

You wish you could stay in bed and just forget.

Your green eyes open to sunlight filtering in through the gap between curtains, the sound of birds chirping giving you the impression that you woke up earlier than you should have. A quick glance to the table beside your bed confirms your thoughts, the bright red numbers telling you it’s only 5am.

You’re still in the hazy state of being half-asleep but it doesn’t take long for the events from yesterday to rush back into your head. You glance down at the bandages covering both your hands and you realize someone had taken care of you last night.

But even if you want to forget about everything you’re way too curious for your own good. You grab your phone from under the sheets and you instantly find your screen filled with messages and emails.

You’re reluctant to open them because you’re sure most, if not all of them, are about your stunt yesterday. You scroll through them and decide to open one from Mako—he’s actually your bodyguard but you’re so lonely that you consider him a close friend—and trust that it would be the easiest to read.

You’re immediately proven wrong because link he sent you was an article about you. The words _'_ _Asami Sato—Like Father, Like Daughter'_ glare back at you and suddenly you feel a familiar sting prodding at the back of your eyes.

You throw your phone across the room with a yell and you hear that damn knocking on your door again. You want to scream at them to go away but something’s stuck in your throat and when you open your mouth all that comes out is a pathetic sob.

The door opens and you see your nanny and you can’t bring yourself to make her leave because she’s always been there for you when you were a kid and you really want someone to hold you right now.

Pema somehow reads your thoughts, or maybe it’s just that obvious, but she rushes to you and immediately holds you tight, her thumbs wiping across your cheeks and you only realize then that you’ve been crying.

“It’s going to be alright, Asami,” she tells you.

You desperately want to believe her.

You don’t though.

 

* * *

 

You step into your bathroom and the cold marble floors touching your bare feet is enough to fully wake you up.

It’s hours later when you finally gain the motivation to pull yourself out of bed. You’d prefer to hide under the covers the whole day but you really have to get to work and not showing up after yesterday was only going to fuel the smug satisfaction people have.

There’s not much you could do about it but you freshen up anyways as you change out of your sleepwear. You’re about to put your make-up on when your eyes land on your bandaged hands but you push the thoughts away before you’re once again reminded of your father and focus at the task at hand because you really don’t want to be late.

You manage to convince Mako not to come with you—it’s not that you don’t want him around or anything, it’s just that you want some time alone and you don’t think you can put up the _'_ _I’m okay'_ front today.

“It’s not safe for you out there, Asami,” he tells you, worry apparent in the furrow between his brows, “There’s always going to be some radical freak who would want to hurt you.”

He’s right but you shake your head anyways, “I’ll be back in a few hours, Mako. I doubt something would happen to me in the ride going to work and back.”

Mako’s obviously not convinced but he knows better than to argue because you’re stubborn like that.

“Alright,” he says reluctantly, “Just please, be safe.”

You give him a small smile and you flip your hair over your shoulder. “I’ll try my best,” you say as you enter your car and you can practically hear him rolling his eyes at you.

The smile slips from your face the moment you close the door behind you however and you wonder at what point in your life was it starting to become natural to put up a mask for everyone else, even the ones you trust.

 

* * *

  

You’re exhausted by the time you step into the elevator on the way out of the building. The day was filled with reprimands from your advisors, scolding you for acting so brashly in the interview and you were too tired to argue so you promised you’d be more careful next time. Not that there _was_ a next time.

You rub your temple, right where the worst of the throbbing in your head seems to come from as the elevator opens. You step into the lobby, greeting your employees and ignoring the sympathetic stares they send your retreating figure. You’re tired of it because it’s either people are constantly wary of you, terrified that you will end up like your father, or people treating you like you’re something fragile, something that would break with the slightest nudge.

And of course, there are those who believe you should be wiped off the face of the earth. You stand at the sidewalk in front of your car and you don’t know whether to feel angry or just plain tired.

You almost don’t recognize your car with the modifications said people had left on it. Spray painted words like _'_ _Monster', 'Murderer', 'Scum',_ and other words you’d rather not acknowledge cover the entire exterior of the vehicle and you find yourself burning in embarrassment as people passing by either snicker or look at you in pity.

You’re nearly in tears when you feel a hand on your shoulder and you whip around, a glare on your face when you see a shorter woman in front of you.

She backs off when she sees your face and holds her hands up in surrender. “Relax, it wasn’t me,” she says defensively.

You feel your anger slowly start to leave you and you’re all too aware of your vision blurring so you wipe the tears away hastily. The woman does nothing but stare at you and you feel like she’s debating over something in her head.

Her eyes leave you for a second to look back at the car before they return, “Whoever did that lacked a lot of creativity huh? That is _so_ grade school.”

You stare at her in shock for a bit but you see the corner of her lips quirk up slightly and you realize she’s being casual about the situation on purpose.

You decide to humor her because well, this day has been weird enough already, “I’m guessing you were a rebel as a kid,” you wave a hand casually in front of you, indicating the vandalism, “This is my first time experiencing this.”

She shrugs, “Nah, just got mixed in with the wrong group of kids,” she says, “I was an angel,” she teases with a smirk.

You can’t help snort because this is getting ridiculous. You’re casually talking to a stranger on street with your messed up car right behind you. You’re pulled from your thoughts however when the woman speaks up again.

“I can help you with that, by the way. I have a repair shop nearby and I could get that off.” she says somewhat reluctantly. You notice that the woman seems nervous, rubbing the back of her neck and looking away from you.

It’s refreshing.

“That would be nice of you,” you say honestly, a genuine smile on your face that the woman immediately reciprocates.

“Let’s go get that amateur work off then,” she says, the quirk of her lips growing into a grin.

You’re starting to find her smile contagious and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

 

* * *

 

It’s been hours since you both started cleaning your car but you find that you’re not tired at all. Maybe it’s because you slept for nearly the morning or maybe because you didn’t exactly do much today.

Maybe it’s because the woman was so damn interesting.

Your eyes can’t help but wander as you both busy yourselves. The woman’s muscles flexed and strained when she worked on a particularly stubborn part of paint, her tank top riding up her toned back as she bent over to clean the sides. Her eyes are a blue you’ve never seen before and they flash whenever she smiles. You’ve had to force yourself to look away multiple times to keep your mind from wandering.

You know better than to hope.

You know she knows who you are because she’s never asked you for your name. You know that this day will end and you’ll go back home thinking about the woman you’re never going to see again.

You secretly hope the day will never end.

 

* * *

 

You, unfortunately, finish cleaning your car.

The lightness of having the woman as company immediately dissipates once you both realize that your car is completely spotless, leaving you to stare at each other awkwardly. Your upbringing, however, requires you to fix that. Even if it means ending your time with her.

“Thank you so much for helping me with this,” you say, a polite smile on your face, “Just let me know how much I owe you for your services.”

The woman’s eyes widen comically and you feel like you just said something wrong.

She has her hands held out in front of her and shakes her head rapidly, “No no, you really don’t need to do that.” she says quickly.

You feel your head tilt slightly to the side as you stare at her in confusion, “What do you mean? _Of course_ I have to pay you,”

The woman observes you for a moment then she laughs and you can't decide if you like her smile or her laugh better. Either way, you find yourself staring again.

“I did that because I wanted to,” she reassures with a kind smile.

You continue to stare at her because your whole life, you’ve been convinced that everyone is just after your money and no one ever does anything for free. So this woman telling you that you don’t have to pay as an act of kindness is beyond your comprehension.

The stranger—though you realize you really can’t call her that now—seems to understand your confusion.

“It really is alright,” she starts casually, but the hand that starts to rub at the back of her neck says otherwise, “But if you want, you can pay me in a different way.”

You raise your eyebrow in question and the woman just huffs before her lips form a small and shy smile.

“Well, I’m starving and it’s been a while since I’ve been around amazing company,” she admits and her smile grows when she sees you blush.

You tuck a stray strand of hair from your face and you smile back, “I know the perfect place.”

 

* * *

 

You choose a pub nearby that you frequent in mostly because it’s quiet and people don’t usually mind you there. There have been multiple times where that wasn’t the case in other places so you really like it here.

You notice your new friend seems to like the place as well in the way her blue eyes scan the darkly lit room, the quaint yet homey vibe of the place, the patrons conversing quietly in the bar.

Those blue eyes turn to you and they seem to glow despite the lack of proper lighting and you have to turn away to keep yourself from staring too obviously.

You see the pub owner and you wave when he gives you an acknowledging nod. You turn back to the woman and you find yourself confused because she suddenly looks embarrassed.

You tap her on the arm lightly, “What’s wrong?” you ask worriedly, because what if she regrets her decision in coming here with you? What if she suddenly realized who she’s with? What if—

She laughs the question off and she’s looking down at the floor in what looks like shame and you can't help but find it adorable, “I just realized I never introduced myself properly,” she says shyly and you don't mean to but a laugh escapes your lips.

She looks up at you when she hears you and it’s like the tension completely melts from her shoulders.

“I’m Korra,” she holds her hand out like they haven’t been together for the few hours but you decide to humor her.

“Asami,” you say as you grasp her hand gently with your own.

You watch her face closely as you wait for a reaction but all you get is a smile and a, “That’s a beautiful name,” and you’re blushing for the hundredth time today.

 

* * *

 

You soon realize that it’s not just her body that catches your attention.

Korra turns out to be one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever met and you don’t mean it only in a physical sense. Aside from the repair shop she owns with a friend, she also does charity work for the homeless. She tells you all about her friends and family and how she strikes you as someone who would do anything for the people she loves. She tells you the stupidest jokes and you know she knows they're stupid but she seems to get a kick out of making you smile. 

Mostly, she’s caught your attention because being with her seems so effortless.

Talking didn’t feel like a chore for once as you find yourself doing just that for what feels like the whole night. You think the stranger you just met today is the kind of person not everyone can say they have in their lives and you find yourself lucky by just being in her presence.

You actually feel normal for once in your life and you know that you should deal with the problems lurking in the back of your mind but you push them aside and focus on the present because that means you can pretend a little longer.

Maybe you just need to relax every once in a while like this—go out, have a few drinks, be carefree for once.

But you’re pretty sure it’s having Korra nearby that’s making you happy for once.

 

* * *

 

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

You thought that you could get away from the world for once but you were stupid to let yourself believe that.

You can see a man glaring at you from over Korra’s shoulder and you try to ignore him and for a while, it works. But the man doesn’t seem pleased about you ignoring him despite it being clear that you’re trying to have a good time.

You can see that Korra notices you glancing over her shoulder and she’s been quick to mind her own business but you suppose that once you look over for maybe the twentieth time, she must have been curious as to what constantly captures your attention.

You almost grab her forearm when she turns around because you know it would ruin tonight for you both. But Korra just looks back at you and you see something in her eyes shift and without a word, she stands and approaches the man.

 _This is it,_ you tell yourself, _this is when it ends. What makes you think that this’ll actually last? She’ll go over there and she’ll find out everything about you. You can’t keep pretending we aren’t living in a world where everybody thinks you’re a criminal like your father. You have to go back to reality because today is just a dream you know you can’t really have. You’re a sad, lonely, poor excuse of a—_

You’re startled out of your inner scolding when you hear the chair across yours scrape against the floor and you find Korra sitting back down at your table. You almost pinch yourself because you really expected her to be gone by the time she finishes talking to the man.

You try to test the waters, “What was all that about?” you ask casually, but you’re pretty sure you failed.

In your defense, Korra seems to be eager to appear casual as well, shrugging nonchalantly, but the way her eyes don't quite meet yours unsettle you, “I think he was just drunk, don’t worry about it.”

You resist the urge to start biting at your nails because you’re _sure_ the man had only said bad things about you and you have no idea how Korra feels about it. What if she finally knows? And she’s looking for a way out of here?

You nod because you don’t know what else to say and you avoid looking at her in the eye. You're taking a sip of your drink when you realize that the man is no longer in the seat he was in earlier.

You place your glass down to ask Korra about that but she beat you to speaking, “You wanna go?” she said quietly and you really hate that you were right about her wanting to leave.

You feel your heart constrict in your chest, but you nod anyway, “Okay.”

You both stand and Korra holds the door open for you but you can’t bring yourself to be too flattered about it because all you can think about is the fact that you’re about to lose something that has a possibility of being a good thing in your life.

You’re both silent as you walk towards your car. Apparently, Korra lives just a few blocks away so she’s offered to just walk home so you’re literally minutes away from saying goodbye.

You reach your car and you can’t take it anymore, “I’m so sorry about the man in the pub,” you blurt out and you realize too late that you can’t bring yourself to stop, “He probably said something that wasn’t true, but I’m not calling him a liar, it’s just that I don’t want you to think—“

“Asami.”

You stop mid-rant—which is not something you usually do but this woman is bringing feelings out of you that you didn’t really know existed—and finally meet the blue eyes in front of you.

She looks like she’s deep in thought and you’re surprised to see that she’s staring at you fondly and you’re completely dumbfounded because that’s not the expression you expected to see on her face at all.

But what surprises you the most is what she says next.

“Go out with me sometime.”

It takes you what feels like several minutes to comprehend what she said because, well, you expected her to hate you like everyone else by now and really _how is she still here?_

You can see that she’s starting to feel a little self-conscious and you know you’re staring but you can’t stop yourself.

And of all the things that you choose to come out of your mouth at this moment, you decide on what you’re sure is the wrong thing to say.

“Do you have _any_ idea who I am?” you ask incredulously because really, is this actually happening or are you dreaming?

You’re aware that you might have come across as rude, but it doesn’t matter because she’s smiling that amazing smile at you, “I’ve known who you were since I approached you earlier today,” she admits, “But that doesn’t matter to me.”

In a manner that is totally uncharacteristic, you sputter out, “W-Why?”

The woman seems to find your loss of composure amusing but she shrugs, smile never falling from her lips. “Admittedly, when I first approached you, I had no idea how you were really like. The media says all these things about you but I never believed them and I confirmed my thoughts today. You’re actually really kind, caring, generous—not to mention gorgeous,” she says with a wink and you feel yourself blushing _again._

“So I really don’t want this to be the last time I get to see you,” she finishes and you can see her blushing a little and she’s tugging at the ends of her cropped hair and you can hardly believe this woman is real.

So you do something impulsive.

“How does tomorrow sound?” you ask her and she looks up at you in shock, but a moment later her eyes brighten when she releases a relieved laugh. You think the grin on her lips right now is probably the widest it has ever been tonight and you feel pride in the fact that you were the one that put it there.

You have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot more of her smiles and you promise to yourself that you’d do anything to keep them there.

“Sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think of this one! any feedback (kudos, comment, etc.) would be greatly appreciated
> 
> i'd especially appreciate if you have any opinions on the second pov thing since its just something new i tried
> 
> thanks for reading!


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